by Bob Nightengale, USA TODAY Sports

by Bob Nightengale, USA TODAY Sports

Today, he is notorious, receiving the stiffest performance-enhancing drug penalty in the history of baseball.

He is banned for the entire 2014 season, receiving a 162-game suspension by independent arbitrator Fredric Horowitz.

It cost Rodriguez his $25 million salary, every ounce of his reputation and credibility, and, of course, any chance of residence in the Hall of Fame.

Rodriguez vows this won't be the last you hear of him. He even intends to come to the New York Yankees' spring training camp. Yet, if he does show his face, now that he's off the major-league roster, one the Yankees could banish him to their minor-league camp.

And, please, forget the idea that Rodriguez could suddenly appear as a sideshow and play for an independent league team this summer.

Rodriguez, remember, still is property of the New York Yankees.

Rodriguez, likely has played his last game with the Yankees, but he's still under contract through the 2017 season. They can dictate his schedule all summer. If they want him training in Tampa, he better be in Tampa. If they want him in Charleston, S.C., he better be at their Class A facility.

He's still owed $61 million, and perhaps could work out a future settlement with the Yankees to void the contract, but for now, he can't do anything involving baseball without the Yankees' permission.

The spotlight has gone dark, perhaps for good.

The spotlight has always followed Rodriguez. And Rodriguez followed it back. It was a natural relationship.

Rodriguez was always the best. The best high-school player. The best teenage prodigy. The best player in the American League. The highest-paid player in baseball history. And the best star in the game, from his 654 home runs on the field to the celebrities he dated off the field, from Madonna to Kate Hudson to Cameron Diaz.

It wasn't enough.

You see, somewhere along the way, Alex Rodriguez stopped being Alex Rodriguez.

He morphed into A-Rod, a caricature of himself.

It wasn't good enough to have the Leonardo DiCaprio looks or the Oprah Winfrey money or the Justin Bieber fame.

He wanted more.

Much, much more.

He wanted to be the most famous person in the world, and being a baseball player was just part of that persona.

To be the most famous, he felt he had to be the greatest on the ballfield, and he would do that by any means possible.

No matter how ethical. No matter how moral. No matter the blatant disregard of Major League Baseball rules.

No matter even if it meant going into business with a drug dealer, Tony Bosch, who ran a sleazy operation in South Florida, Biogenesis.

Rodriguez spent $12,000 a month to be Bosch's biggest client. They exchanged as many as 500 Blackberry messages to discuss the specific drugs, the doping schedule, and even arranged personal injections of performance-enhancing drugs because of Rodriguez's fear of needles.

"He wanted to achieve all his human performance,'' Bosch told CBS's 60 Minutes, "or in this case, sports performance, objectives. And the most important one was the 800 home-run club.''

Yes, where Rodriguez would be only member.

It might have worked, but when you're dealing with shady people, they've got shady friends, and in the world of drug dealing, everyone is looking to make a buck.

Remember, back in the BALCO days, no one in Barry Bonds' inner circle ever uttered a public word about his dealings. Not founder Victor Conte. Not personal trainer Greg Anderson. Not a soul.

Bosch bared his soul to Major League Baseball officials, under oath, with sworn affidavits, and repeated it all in front of independent arbitrator Fredric Horowitz.

The Major League Players Association even issued a statement saying they had no problem with the process, but ridiculed the appearances by Bosch and Manfred on "60 Minutes.''

"It is unfortunate that Major League Baseball apparently lacks faith in the integrity and finality of the arbitrator's decision and our Joint Drug Agreement, such that it could not resist the temptation to publicly pile-on against Alex Rodriguez,'' the union said in a statement Sunday. "MLB's post-decision rush to the media is inconsistent with our collectively-bargained arbitration process, in general, as well as the confidentiality and credibility of the Joint Drug Agreement, in particular. ‚?¶Players have expressed anger over, among other things, MLB's inability to let the result of yesterday's decision speak for itself. As a result, the Players Association is considering all legal options available to remedy any breaches committed by MLB.''

Rodriguez, who still denies he ever used performance-enhancing drugs after 2003, knowing Bosch, or ratting out Milwaukee Brewers star Ryan Braun and teammate Francisco Cervelli, never bothered to contradict the testimony himself.

He instead spent millions having his attorneys attack the process, saying it was nothing more than a "witch hunt,'' and that "the deck has been stacked against me from day one.''

A-Rod is deeply ingrained in denial.

And A-Rod, which has snuffed out Alex Rodriguez's personality, is indeed running this show.

And we will witness A-Rod taking his next fight to federal court, seeking a temporary restraining order in hopes of reversing the ruling.

Rodriguez, of course, will lose that battle, too. Federal judges have no interest intervening with arbitration cases issued through collective bargaining rights.

Still, whether it's a matter of sheer arrogance or being delusional, Rodriguez will continue the fight. He went this far despite being advised by late union executive director Michael Weiner to accept a ban of about 100 games - 35 more than Braun accepted. The other 13 players in the Biogenesis scandal accepted their 50-game penalties.

Rodriguez, incensed at the idea of missing even an inning more than Braun, let alone admit to guilt, flatly refused.